


somewhere only we know

by cascountsdeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Dean Winchester Prays to Jack, M/M, post 15x20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cascountsdeansfreckles/pseuds/cascountsdeansfreckles
Summary: The Gas N Sip in Rexford. Sharkey’s Seafood Bar & Grille. That strip joint in Maine. Literally any park. The house in North Cave. Dodge City. The dungeon in the basement of the bunker. Room 15. The barn in Ohio.There is a long list of places Dean refuses to get near. A long list of places that make his stomach twist and head pound. But there’s one place he can’t seem to stay away from.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	somewhere only we know

The Gas N Sip in Rexford. Sharkey’s Seafood Bar & Grille. That strip joint in Maine. Literally any children’s park. The house in North Cave. Dodge City. The dungeon in the basement of the bunker. Room 15. The barn in Ohio. 

There is a long list of places Dean refuses to get near. A long list of places that make his stomach twist and head pound. But there’s one place he can’t seem to stay away from.

Dean keeps going back to the alley behind that church. He tells Sam that he’s going for a drive, or he makes a show out of packing up his fishing pole and the tackle box, but he always goes to the same place. Sometimes he stays for hours, sometimes he just drives by, squinting his eyes at the dark area around the phone booth, trying to decipher the form of a man. It’s always deserted.

Sometimes he talks, half a prayer, telling Cas about his week. Or asking him to come back. Or cursing him for leaving. Other days he sits in silence, his phone carefully balanced on his leg and his eyes locked on the spot where Cas came back last time.

Today he’s talkative. He’s telling Cas about the new tricks Miracle has managed to pick up on.

“And Eileen says I’m a pushover,” he continues, imagining that Cas is smiling bemusedly as he talks. “Says he sits next to me on movie nights ‘cause he knows I’ll give him popcorn. But I know it’s just because I’m his favorite.” He goes quiet, the small smile on his lips fading. “We miss you, man. All of us.”

There’s one thing that Dean never talks to Cas about. The fact that he’s gone.

“Y’know,” he says, trying to keep his voice upbeat. “Jack said he was gonna be hands off, but I guess there was one thing he couldn’t help but fix for you. The bee’s. He—um,” his throat tightens up for a moment. “I mean, we figure it was Jack. Scientists are losing their minds trying to figure out how they came back overnight. They’re not in trouble anymore. No more ‘save the bees.’”

He drags his hand through his hair, allows himself to be momentarily horrified by how thin it feels, and blows out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I figured it would stop hurting so bad after a while. But it hasn’t. I mean, Sam lost you too. I know that. But knowing what I know now—I just wish we’d had more time. Or that we hadn’t been so damn careless with the time that we did have. Cas, I—”

Dean looks away from the phone booth and sighs. Cas isn’t going to magically appear. He bites down on his lip, hard, and prepares himself to do something he and Sam agreed they wouldn’t do.

“Jack,” he says, his voice shaking. “Or God, whatever I’m s’pposed to call you now. I know you’re busy, I know that I can’t just call on you whenever I want. And we agreed we wouldn’t start off this clean slate by upsetting the balance of life and death. But I need him back.”

There’s no response, no holy wind blowing through the car, and Jack doesn’t appear in the passenger seat.

“Jack,” he says again, closing his eyes. “I’m begging here, kid. Please. I need him.”

He opens his eyes, searching the alley in front of him. Nobody shows up. It was a long shot anyway.

He stays for a few more hours, sitting in silence and waiting for something that will never come. Sam calls him a little after eleven, so he heads home, but not before promising Cas he’ll be back.

He retreats to his room with a beer the moment he gets home, flopping onto his bed fully clothed and pulling his headphones on. He almost doesn’t feel the vibration of his phone, the small part of him that registers it writes it off as his imagination until Dean pulls himself back to reality with a gasp and grabs at it clumsily. It’s an unknown number. 

“What?” he says roughly.

“Dean?”


End file.
